


Nabreus Waltz

by argle_fraster



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Gen, Post-Game, Pre-Relationship, comrade bonds, flirting through dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-27
Updated: 2012-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-06 02:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argle_fraster/pseuds/argle_fraster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Penelo attends Queen Ashe's coronation, with familiar faces and nostalgia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nabreus Waltz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VelvetMouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelvetMouse/gifts).



> Prompt: Penelo/Basch. I can't really explain why I love this pairing. but I do. So very much. First kiss/time, get-together, sneaking around so the others don't find out, and conflicted i-want-to-but-we-shouldn't (probably from basch) are all lovely. If you can't wrap your brain around them in a romantic/sexual relationship, friendship fic is adored as well :) (and if you want to set it a few years post-game so that Penelo is a little further out of jailbait range, that's totally fine.) 
> 
> Author's notes: Dear VelvetMouse, I hope you enjoy this! This was supposed to be shippier than it ended up being so this falls into pre-relationship status. I hope you don't mind the Ashe-Penelo friendship, as it's one of my favorites. :)

Queen Ashe's coronation takes place on a day in Rabanastre with the cool breeze sweeping north from Giza's rainy season, when Muthru is in peak capacity and the Aerodrome is overflowing with visiting ships. It's nice to see the city blossoming with so much activity again that isn't related to soldiers or Archades, and Penelo finds she doesn't mind taking a little bit of extra time to get around with the commotion. There's a bubble swelling in her chest that pushes against her ribs, and it's been a long time since she felt so much happiness towards the sprawling capital - it's worth it, all of it, to see Ashe finally crowned and home.

The breeze isn't helping much with the dust that kicks up from the ground, and Penelo arrives back at Migelo's place covered with a light film of it.

"Vaan!" she calls, wiping her clothing down with the palm of her hand as best she can. When the young man fails to arrive, she starts looking through the rows of goods to see if he's stocking and lost in his own world. "Vaan-"

Kytes is there, instead, and he's got a piece of parchment in his hand. "Messenger arrived for you."

"For me?" Penelo asks. She takes the envelope gingerly. If it didn't come for both her _and_ Vaan, then she doubts it's something to do with their somewhat unorthodox career choices as of late - Vaan's been trying to secure them another ship after their foster vessel was reclaimed, and he hasn't exactly been quiet on the reason why they need it - but still, when she turns the message over, the royal seal is emblazoned on the back in dried wax.

"Guard didn't say much," Kytes tells her, shrugging. He already looks bored. "Just told me to give it to you."

"Thanks," Penelo says. She gives him the satchel of goods from the bazaar she'd picked up and hopes that he'll give it to Migelo quicker this time, and then leaves the shop to sit on the stone rail just outside. The envelope parts easily beneath her fingers, and there's a simple note inside written with a looped, flourishing script: _Not an official summons, simply a request; if you are able, come to the palace before the ceremony._

It's not signed, but it doesn't have to be, and Penelo would know Ashe's touch anywhere. She hopes Vaan has found something to do that doesn't put him at odds with the royal guards, and leaves a message with Kytes that she'll return later that night, after the coronation is over.

With all the tourists, it takes a little longer to get to the palace, but it's not a bad walk.

\--

Ashe was expecting her, polite request or no, and Penelo finds herself immediately escorted into the queen's receiving room. It's large and expansive, decorated with small vases full of red flowers blooming wide and bright, and Penelo has never seen so many fine things in one place before save Larsa's personal chambers. Ashe is sitting in one of the chairs when Penelo arrives and doesn't rise - she looks up and smiles, though, and there's a bit of tightness around her mouth.

"Thank you for coming," Ashe says. "I know it was terribly short notice, and I'm sorry."

"I'm glad to see you," Penelo tells her honestly. She wonders if she could take her shoes off just to feel the plush of the rug beneath her toes; she wonders if it feels like walking on a pillow-top.

Ashe turns a bit to look in the vanity mirror, hands in her lap. She's dressed simply for a coronation - pale blue gown that doesn't reach past her knees and sweeps off both shoulders. She wears no ornaments save for a silver chain around her neck and Rasler's ring on her left hand. "It's just - when I was married, I was surrounded by ladies-in-waiting and servants, and they dressed me layer by layer, and now..."

"You're alone," Penelo finishes.

Ashe's smile is thin. "I no longer require help to dress myself, but preparing for this day without them is daunting. I'm sorry."

There's a fierce rush of pride - pride for this young woman, this _queen_ , who has lost and gained everything a thousand times over, and is, at the end of the day, just a girl still. Penelo moves across the room to stand by Ashe's side.

"You _should_ have people here to keep you company," Penelo tells her, and reaches for the vanity to pick up a soft-bristled hairbrush. "What good is being a queen if you can't find others to help your nervousness?"

"I did not think I'd feel nerves like this," Ashe laughs. She seems to relax a bit when Penelo starts to drag the brush through tendrils of silky hair. The other woman pauses, shoulders visibly unclenching a bit, and then sighs. "I fear I haven't had the time to grow close to my new attendants."

"Were you very close to your handmaidens before?" Penelo asks.

Ashe makes a sad little noise that sounds like an exhale more than anything else. Her fingers in her lap curl a bit over her thighs and then straighten, flattening the wrinkles in the fabric of her gown. "I was, yes," she says. Her voice is quiet. "They were... very kind to me."

"It sounds like they were friends," Penelo says. Ashe's hair is shimmering like the desert dunes now, and Penelo lets some of the strands slip between her fingers just like the sand does.

"I think they were," Ashe agrees.

Penelo wonders how many people of Rabanastre have been standing where she is now - directly behind the woman being crowned queen, the last of her royal line. She sets the hairbrush back down on the vanity counter. "You know we think of you as our friend now," she says, and in the mirror, Ashe's mouth twists into a grateful smile.

"I am glad to have you as a friend," Ashe says. The lines in her face have all but smoothed out. "You are coming to the coronation?"

"I wouldn't miss it," Penelo promises, and means it.

They are silent for a few moments, with Penelo's hands resting lightly on Ashe's shoulders, and Penelo notices a vase of small white flowers near a bottle of perfume.

"Now," Penelo says, and smiles at the other woman's reflection as she moves for the blooms and begins to loop small sections of Ashe's hair into tiny braids, "let's make you look like a queen."

\--

The coronation takes place in the balcony over-looking Rabanastre's square so that all can attend, but an invitation to the ball that followed inside the palace is far more difficult to come by. Ashe had personally invited Penelo to join her, but Penelo is surprised when Vaan slips in through the crowd and finds her near a fountain in the hall.

"Late, as usual," Penelo says, without malice, as Vaan rubs his head a bit in embarrassment.

"I think they misplaced my invitation," he comments.

Penelo nudges him with one shoulder, watching him as he takes in the sights and sounds of Ivalice's most important milling in conversation over sweet wine. "Or you never got one. Maybe they were trying to keep out the trouble?"

"D'you think Balthier and Fran are here?" Vaan asks.

"I haven't seen them," Penelo answers, and she's already wondered the same thing, "but that doesn't mean they aren't here."

Vaan's face clouds a bit, but it seems to be more from remembering the loss of the Strahl than anything else. "They _would_ sneak in the back without announcing themselves. Probably doesn't want to face me after taking the ship."

" _Their_ ship," Penelo corrects.

"Whatever," Vaan says, and shrugs. "I'm going to go see if they have any sweet meat, do you want some?"

He heads off in the direction of the banquet tables, lined with delicacies brought by visiting dignitaries and emissaries. Penelo sees Al-Cid standing near one of them, surrounding by a handful of bejeweled, glittering girls, and he and the Marquis are the only ones she recognizes. The rest are foreign to her and she feels a bit out of place; she's just an orphaned girl from the streets of Rabanastre, and hardly fit to grace the royal halls, friendship with Queen Ashelia notwithstanding.

"Hello, Penelo," comes a voice from her left. When she looks over, she finds Larsa standing there.

"Larsa!" She is glad to see him - a familiar face is always helpful, especially since Vaan has wandered off.

The other boy smiles and gives her a short, polite bow. "I am happy to see you here, Penelo. It has been a long time."

"It has," Penelo agrees. Behind him, she sees Basch, sans-armor and looking uncomfortable and out of place in the festivities. It hits her suddenly that if Balthier and Fran _are_ here, then her traveling companions are all in one place again. She misses them, with a strange ferocity - misses their adventures and travels, misses the familiar way that they fit together. She even misses Vaan's snoring in the tents, if only for its comforting solidness. "Hello... Gabranth."

It's worth it to see the way Basch's face seems to unwind. She gets almost a full smile as he replies, "I am glad to see you are well."

"Gabranth is regretting his acceptance to accompany me here," Larsa says, with dark eyes full of amusement, "so if it isn't too much trouble, could I persuade you to get him onto the dance floor while I make the rounds?"

Basch looks dubious, but Penelo is pleased. "I'd be honored."

It's strange, dancing with Basch - Penelo watches the way people move, because she always has, and Basch is an interesting collection of information. He has obviously learned to dance the classic styles somewhere; he starts immediately into the Nabreus Waltz, though his timing is a bit off and his feet a step behind. He moves like a soldier, all precision and jerky edges, like he's fighting rather than dancing.

It's easy enough to work with once she's figured his system out, and Basch seems relieved when Penelo starts lightly stepping around his footwork rather than trying to fix it. When he's only a beat off, she can adjust the steps accordingly, though maneuvering around the other couples takes more work.

"I hope things are well in Archades," Penelo says, as she slides them along the outer ring of the dance floor as best she can without really leading - the trick is to turn them just a quarter of the way each time they complete the box steps, to keep Basch leading, and spin to the outside. "I think that Ashe really misses you."

"I do miss Rabanastre," Basch agrees, and Penelo notes that he avoided the truth of her statement. "Archades is... politics. It has fallen onto a rat's nest of guild politics with the nobles, and sorting through them is proving to be somewhat of a challenge."

Penelo laughs, in the middle of a spin, half from the comment and half from the fact that Basch correctly executes the steps so she can twirl on the floor. When she spins back in, Basch's arm is slung tighter around her waist. "It sounds like something Larsa would love," she says.

"Oh, he is right in his element," Basch replies, and he's smiling - really smiling, the kind that reaches all the way up to his eyes as they dance past an older couple decked out in shimmering cerulean jewels. "I am afraid that I am the one unable to keep up."

"Just think of arguing with Balthier," Penelo tells him. Basch's arm is snug around her middle when they separate, stepping through the divided square steps as the music picks up with a jauntier melody. Penelo likes this part; she likes throwing her whole body into it, the elongated poses held just long enough before seamlessly sliding into the next one. There is a story to the dance - it's more art than movement, really, and Penelo remembers the background her mother had told her about this one vividly. The waltz was about a woman waiting for her long-lost love, a soldier in the wars, who decided to go out and find him rather than wait around, no matter the danger she might encounter.

Penelo tries to imagine the feelings the woman must have been feeling as she set out on her own, channeling it all into the steps. They return together again with hands clasped, and Basch's palms are warm where they are pressed against Penelo's own.

"I hear our favorite sky pirate reclaimed his ship," Basch says.

"Vaan is still in mourning," Penelo tells him.

There is a lull in the music - Penelo steps to one side, arms sweeping out a bit. The tune changes into something softer and slower: intimate. It's not a song that Penelo recognizes, but the steps the couples around them begin are a set she has seen before. It's most likely Rozarrian in nature - a country whose dances all require partners to be very close as they move through the formation.

Basch's brow is furrowed. "I am afraid that I don't know this one," he apologizes, and seems stymied when Penelo reaches for his hands again anyway.

"I do," she says. "Follow my steps - it's very easy. Twice right, twice back, loop, twice left, and then an overhand exchange."

To his credit, Basch is competent and catches on quickly. Penelo has lost sight of Larsa, though she does spot Ashe, standing off to the side wearing a simple crown of polished silver that dips low onto her forehead.

The Rozarrian dance is far too intimate for their situation, and Penelo is quickly regretting initiating it when she realizes how close they are. She is flush with Basch's chest, close enough to feel the trembles that are working their way down his forearms.

"Do you miss being yourself?" she asks, quietly, hopping over Basch's foot when he misses a step. "Is it hard being someone else?"

Basch is silent for a long moment, and Penelo doesn't crane her head up to see his expression. She can feel everything when he botches the next square and turns the wrong way on the twist.

"Yes," the man sighs. "Yes, it is."

"If it helps," Penelo starts, fingers tightening around Basch's biceps, "I will always think of you as Basch. You'll always be the loyal knight who served his country to me."

She feels silly as soon as the words leave her mouth, but it's true, they're all true, and he deserves to hear it from someone, at least. The silence that settles between them is thick but not entirely uncomfortable; Basch has gotten the hang of the dance now, and leads them through several other couples entwined around each other.

"Larsa speaks so highly of you," the man murmurs, surprising Penelo a bit.

"I am very fond of Larsa," she says, and the lines on Basch's forehead deepen.

"Yes," he says. He sounds a million leagues away. "I suspect he feels the same for you."

For some reason, there is a recess between them now. Penelo can't see it, but it's there, and the hold Basch has on her begins to loosen. Too late she realizes that he's maneuvered them back over to the side, to the crowd where Larsa has reappeared; he caught on quicker than she'd realized and spun her out of the dance floor.

"Basch," Penelo starts, but it's too late. The arms around her go slack and draw away, and Larsa is at her side with an amused grin.

"Why, I don't think I've ever seen him move like that doing anything but exchanging blows before!" Larsa exclaims.

He's got an extra glass of wine in his hands that Penelo assumes is for her, but she can't quite give him her full attention. Basch holds her gaze for a long moment, his expression unreadable, and then bows stiffly with an arm in front of his abdomen. When he turns away, Penelo can't quite deduce why her heart is beating so fast - or why she feels so strangely, hauntingly disappointed.

"Penelo?" Larsa asks, startling her from her thoughts.

"I'm sorry," she says immediately. She takes the glass of wine - maybe it will help the twisting in her stomach. "I'm so sorry, I completely missed that last part. What were you saying?"

\--

It is far into the night when Penelo manages to find Vaan again, and somehow he has wormed his way into a conversation with several delegates who would have his head if they knew of his recent hobby of pirating; he seems engaged in the conversation and Penelo feels bad taking him away, because the gods only know how much they've all needed a little bit of normalcy and acceptance, so she leaves him be. The breeze from Giza has cooled even more after nightfall; she finds an open railing on one of the palace's balconies and stands there, elbows propped on the stone, watching the lightning flash over the plains on the edge of the horizon.

She is there when Basch finds her again. In the moonlight, he looks much more like his old self - his scar is dark along the bridge of his nose. Penelo can almost imagine that they are traveling again, in the Sochen Caves on the way to Archades or in the Pharos desperate for the answers they seek.

"I suppose you will be accompanying Larsa back to Archades tomorrow," Penelo says, and leans down into her palm.

"We leave at dawn's light," is the reply, which only serves to drop Penelo's heart down further in her chest; she likes having her battle companions nearby. They are so scattered and far away - by both politics and distance - that sometimes it feels like their journey was only a dream she woke from one morning, back in Rabanastre again.

She stares out at the moon half-shrouded by clouds. "I wish you didn't have to go."

"There is much I wish I could do," Basch tells her, "but I am bound through my brother's name and legacy, and there are not many places that would welcome Basch fon Ronsenburg now."

"I will always welcome you," Penelo says. She turns, pressing her back against the stone of the palisade rail. "Remember that you are always welcome at Migelo's."

She is rewarded with another rare smile. "I will," Basch says.

"Look after Larsa?" Penelo asks.

"As I always do, my lady."

Penelo laughs, turning her face up to the sky. "You certainly don't have to call me that. I'm hardly noble born. I've spent more time in the sewers than you have."

"From my personal experience, it is a person's character that determines their standing, not their birth," he replies. "Besides, I believe your dancing fooled a number of nobles inside; it was beautifully done."

She knows her cheeks are flushing, because she can feel the heat down her neck. Still, it's nice to hear.

"Thank you," she says, quietly, and wraps her arms around herself. "For everything."

It's late, but better than never - Basch bows to her again. "Perhaps I will see you should you come visit Larsa."

"And perhaps I'll get another dance out of you," Penelo replies, smiling.

"Perhaps," Basch says, and the corners of his mouth quirk up, "you will."


End file.
